PAST DUE

Sometimes, sometimes no one is home on the inside  of me where my voice has no return from the words released   the inside shadow finds no shadow   the echo of a name a voice I always thought responded back from a corner I knew by comfort   where my eyes knew every blemish … More PAST DUE

CURIOUS HANDS

A morning breeze stepped through the open window, lifting curtain edges and touching walls like the hands of a curious child.   The fragrance was fresh like laundry line dried under a forever sun.   In bed, the cotton blankets owned me within a twist of warm compassion, protecting me from the world beyond my … More CURIOUS HANDS